


you don't know what you're asking for

by patrichor



Series: c!dream gets beat UP [7]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Wilbur Soot, Gen, Pandora's Vault Prison, Protective Wilbur Soot, Resurrected Wilbur Soot, Temporary Character Death, Vaguely Eldritch Wilbur Soot, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, but just by found family, not like biologically or by official adoption we using canon sbi for this one sorry lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 10:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrichor/pseuds/patrichor
Summary: He’s been trapped here for far too long, but no more. He knows the Book works, now, had tested it on Tommy and gotten even more than he’d hoped. He doesn’t try to hide his satisfaction as he remembers the fear in the boy’s voice, the way he’d stared at Dream in terror when he came back from the dead.Unknowingly, he’d handed Dream the most powerful weapon against him yet. The foolish child had asked, begged even for the fallen one to stay in the afterlife. He’d sought mercy from a god, and received none. Dream can still taste the lingering fear in the air, and a sharp, toothy grin slides onto his face.He has work to do.or, Dream makes good on his threat to revive Wilbur, and gets far more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: c!dream gets beat UP [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112075
Comments: 62
Kudos: 616
Collections: Finished Fics, Wilbur and Tommy in the Afterlife





	you don't know what you're asking for

**Author's Note:**

> ok the title is from invincible by ruelle, which if you haven't heard... go listen to it the vibes are [chefs kiss] mwah so very good :' the full lines goes like,, 'you want a war, you don't know what you're asking for' and listen i just. the lyrics i use for titles mean things, ok? bc it gives me a lil chuckle and at the end of the day, aren't we all doing things for a bit of seratonin?
> 
> n e way thanks for reading! hope u enjoy it :}

As he sits with his back to the wall, orange light shifting across what is left of a porcelain mask, Dream examines his hands where they rest in his lap. His gaze is detached, and yet he feels anything but. A sick sense of elation is rising, and he clenches his hands into fists to hide their excited tremble.

He’s been trapped here for far too long, but no more. He knows the Book works, now, had tested it on Tommy and gotten even more than he’d hoped. He doesn’t try to hide his satisfaction as he remembers the fear in the boy’s voice, the way he’d stared at Dream in terror when he came back from the dead.

Unknowingly, he’d handed Dream the most powerful weapon against him yet. The foolish child had asked, begged even for the fallen one to stay in the afterlife. He’d sought mercy from a god, and received none. Dream can still taste the lingering fear in the air, and a sharp, toothy grin slides onto his face.

He has work to do.

It’s difficult to revive someone, but not nearly as much as one might think. Dream especially, now that he’s done it once, is more than confident in his ability to do it again. He stands, spreading his arms as a pale green glow begins to gather in his palms. As he recites the words from the Book under his breath, the glow shoots from his hands to form a shape on the floor in front of him, slowly becoming more solid and human-like.

Wilbur Soot had, in life, proven to be both a dangerous enemy and an incredibly useful ally. Dream had nudged him along, yes, but he hadn’t had to do much more than push and let the man’s spiraling mind do the rest of the work for him. Even if he didn’t have the favor of resurrection to hang over the fallen man’s head, he’s sure he could easily persuade Wilbur to help him escape.

The light takes the shape of a kneeling man, something Dream finds only too fitting, and then fades to reveal Wilbur Soot, eyes closed, sitting back on his heels. Resurrection is taxing, and when he immediately doubles over coughing as his eyes fly open Dream magnanimously lets it slide. Tommy had struggled, and he’d been dead mere months from his perspective. Which would make.. how many years of Wilbur being dead? Dream disregards the thought as unimportant. When the coughing finally tapers off and Wilbur raises his head, looking up at his savior, Dream’s sure his smile is wide enough to be seen around his broken mask.

He’s expecting gratitude, supplication. He’d settle for awe, even. Something he could work with. He’s not expecting Wilbur to glance around the prison, look back at Dream, and sigh heavily.

“Oh, fuck’s sake.”

Dream’s smile freezes. “..What?”

Wilbur sighs again, longer and more drawn-out, and shifts to sit cross-legged. He produces a deck of cards from a pocket of his trench coat, and starts to shuffle without looking at Dream. “Do you know how to play solitaire?”

Dream is off his rhythm, but he makes a valiant effort to regain control of the situation.

“I’ve brought you back to life for a purpose.” He pauses briefly, but Wilbur doesn’t seem inclined to ask so he continues. “I’ve been trapped in this prison for a long time now, but not anymore. I brought you here to help me escape-”

“No thanks.”

Dream’s eyes narrow. “What?”

Wilbur finally looks up at him. “No thanks.” He repeats, arching an eyebrow. Something in his eyes unnerves Dream, and he forgets to respond. It’s not the stubbornness of the revolution, the desperation from Pogtopia, or even some combination of the two. There is something old in Wilbur’s eyes, something that knows more than any living being should, something that has seen the universe run out and simply didn’t care.

Dream looks into Wilbur’s eyes, and he sees true divinity looking back.

He doesn’t realize he isn’t breathing until Wilbur looks back down at his cards to lay them out, breaking eye contact. Dream is afraid, he realizes, and the thought is enough to infuriate him. He’s the admin of the server, the only person with power over life and death, the rightful owner of every damned inch of land in this world. His words have raised leaders and brought them down again, his axe has cut countries and people alike down to nothing. He is not one to be cowed by a dead man walking.

“I brought you back to help me escape.” He repeats, and if his voice is colder than before neither will mention it.

Wilbur sighs a third time, looking up at the ceiling briefly as if irritated. He isn’t, Dream can tell. He isn’t feeling much of anything, not so soon after having been pulled from the void.

“No thanks.” He answers, laying out the last card and beginning to play. “Solitaire is much more fun. Ever played?”

“You owe me,” Dream presses, eyes narrowed. “I resurrected you. You owe me your life, Wilbur Soot. That’s not a debt to be taken lightly.”

Wilbur actually laughs at that, though there’s very little humor in his tone. “Owe you? Dream, I don’t even want to be here. If anything,  _ you  _ owe  _ me. _ ”

Dream senses an opportunity and seizes it, trying to keep the frustrustration from his voice. “Then help me, and I’ll let you go back.”

“I can do that on my own just fine, thanks.” Wilbur snorts.

“Can you?” Dream’s smile has an edge of smugness. “I hold the power to revive someone infinitely. Do you really think you’d have rested in peace so long if I didn’t allow it?”

Wilbur looks up at that, and examines Dream before standing to his full height. He wavers a bit on his unused legs, a downside of resurrection, but manages to keep his balance better than Tommy did after coming back from the dead.

“Can’t resurrect shit if I kill you,” He points out flatly, and Dream actually chuckles.

“You’re not a fighter, Wilbur. You never have been, and we both know it. Do you really think you could beat me hand-to-hand, even like this?”

Wilbur considers his point, before shrugging and sitting back down. “Then I guess we’re at an impasse, Dream. I can’t kill you, but I won’t do shit for you.”

“We’ll see.” Dream hums, sitting across the cards from Wilbur with a smile. He’d tipped the man off the deep end before, would it really be so hard to do it again?

Four days later, the answer is yes and Dream is just about ready to tear out his hair. Wilbur has done nothing but play cards, barely even sleeping. On the second day, Dream stole his cards and tossed them in the lava. When he awoke, Wilbur had simply laughed and pulled another deck from his sleeve. On the third, Dream had tried withholding food from his new roommate. It did nothing, Wilbur was used to going on little to nothing for days and he told Dream as much, the genuine amusement coloring his tone convincing Dream of his honesty.

He’s tried conversing, poking at weaknesses- L’Manberg, Eret, Fundy, Philza. The most reaction he got was narrowed eyes and the return of that presence- the one that sucks the air from the room, that is ancient and indifferent and just as much  _ void  _ as it is  _ Wilbur. _

Never anything he can use.

He has one trick left to pull, though. Wilbur’s death hadn’t been instant, but it had been quick. Clean. In the arms of the father he loved.

Tommy’s death had been slow. Dragged out. Brutal. Alone with Dream. Everything Dream knows Wilbur would never have wanted for the boy he saw as a brother.

“You know, Tommy used to visit sometimes.” He starts, tone light. Wilbur makes a noise of acknowledgement, drawing a card without looking up. “He said something interesting the last time he was here.”

Wilbur hums, scooping up the cards as he finishes a game and starting to shuffle them.

“He asked me, begged me even, not to bring you back.” Wilbur’s hands slow their movements. “He even told me that he’d do whatever I wanted if I didn’t resurrect you. Said we could be friends and everything.”

Dream waits with bated breath as Wilbur’s eyes unfocus briefly before returning to his cards.

“Is that the reason you brought me back?” He asks, an odd note in his tone. “The real reason, I mean. Because Tommy was afraid of it?”

Dream shrugs elegantly. “It might be. It might not. Who can say?”

Wilbur sets down the cards abruptly, and Dream thinks he’s gotten somewhere as he puts a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking, until he realizes the other man is laughing.

“Tommy, you fucking legend,” He breathes, lowering his hand to reveal his grin. “Oh, my god. Dream, how does it feel to have been outplayed by a child?”

Dream’s gaze sharpens. “He wasn’t bluffing, Wilbur. I know him better than he knows himself-”

“Dude, get a hobby.” Wilbur looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Honestly it’s weird and a little sad that you’re so obsessed with a teenager. Mostly weird, though.”

He doesn’t pause long enough for Dream to speak. “He got exactly what he wanted, and he played you like a fucking fiddle to get it. And now you’ve got one less thing to hang over his head.”

Dream sighs, putting on his most patient facade. “Wilbur, I know you’ve been dead a long time,” He says, poisonous affability dripping from his tone. “Things are different now. The server has changed a lot since you died, and so has everyone on it. You don’t know Tommy like you did before.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Remind me, which one of us just spent two months in the afterlife with him, and which one of us is so bad at understanding people that he thought using their  _ items _ to control them would work?”

Dream scoffs. “It has in the past, Wilbur. Just because I can work for goals beyond meaningless destruction-”

Wilbur stares Dream in the eyes, and Dream’s voice cuts out without his notice. The presence is back, and it is no longer indifferent. Something shifts beneath the surface, something angered.

“Do you know something, Dream? I think you’re afraid.” He stands, towering over Dream where he finds himself unable to move from his position leaning against the wall. “That’s what all this has been about, hasn’t it? You are so fucking scared of death that you sent a child to the afterlife because you couldn’t bear not knowing, and you were too cowardly to find out for yourself.”

He takes a step forward, his shadow almost seeming to lengthen, and Dream forgets how to breath. “You want to know what death is like? For me, it’s peace. For you.. it will be an eternity of misery and suffering that you will never escape. The void doesn’t let go so easily, Dream, and it doesn’t forget.”

He takes another step, and for a moment Dream could swear he sees eyes burning red in Wilbur’s shadow as it stretches before him. “You’re a coward, Dream. You cling to whatever scraps of knowledge and power and control your tiny little hands can reach, but it’s never enough. You’ll never stop running, being terrified of your own mortality, never be able to stop being aware of your impending fate.”

With another step, Wilbur reaches Dream and looms over him. His eyes are dark, seeming almost to suck the light from the room around them. “A god, Dream? A god?” He runs a hand down Dream’s mask, and then abruptly grabs his collar and lifts him just enough for Dream to have to stand on the balls of his feet. “I’ve seen things you could never imagine, Dream, knowledge you could never comprehend. I can tell when each and every person will enter the void, and I can feel each second ticking down to the end of the universe. My father has lived for centuries, and I have no reason to believe I don’t have the same ability. You got a book from a washed-up politician, and decided to fuck around with things you aren’t meant to understand.”

He leans closer, eyes staring dead into Dream’s. “If that’s enough to make you a god, then tell me, what am I?”

Dream’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come to him. Wilbur snorts in disgust and drops him, turning and settling himself back on the floor with his cards.

They sit in silence for hours, Dream remembering the look in Wilbur’s eyes when he opens his mouth to start a conversation, and closing it again each time.

He’s surprised when he realizes he wants Wilbur gone, but not too surprised. Dream had brought him back to be a pawn, a tool, the vassal he had once made himself out to be. And even just admitting it to himself feels like a defeat, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of being prey beneath watchful dark eyes. He’d called himself a god in a moment of elation, and had believed it true. Now he sits across from the closest thing to a true god he has ever seen, and he hates it. The man in front of him is a reminder of his own mortality, his weakness. He cannot let any such reminder stand.

Mind made up, Dream pushes himself to his feet in a smooth movement and moves to stand next to the lava, gazing into it. He knows it’ll catch Wilbur’s attention, and sure enough within ten minutes the other has joined him.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Wilbur’s voice has lost its sharp edge, back to his regular wry drawl.

Dream nods, humming lightly in agreement. “It is,” He agrees, turning a dark smile on the other. “Would you like to get a closer look?”

Without waiting for an answer, he steps over to Wilbur and pushes him, sending him stumbling forward. The other man may be terrifying, may have gone into the void and come back with part of it inside him, but he’s still in the same physical condition he was in when he died- half-starved and sleep-deprived. There’s surprisingly little resistance, but as he falls into the lava Wilbur begins to laugh.

It’s a chilling sound, even more so as it distorts with pain, but it doesn’t stop until after Wilbur is completely submerged, seeming to take hours and mere moments at the same time. Dream breathes a relieved sigh once the cell finally goes quiet, lowering himself to a kneeling position. Fucking finally.

**[WilburSoot tried to swim in lava to escape Dream]**

“Goodbye, Wilbur Soot. Do us both a favor and stay dead.”

“Aw, I’m hurt.” Someone says from behind him, Dream freezing as terror lances down his spine. “And here I thought we were getting along so well.”

Dream turns slowly, eyes widening as he takes in the sight before him.

Wilbur is there, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a knife-slash grin stretching wider as he sees the horror on Dream’s face. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“Three lives.” Dream mutters, shoving himself to a standing position. “Of course.” He starts to move toward Wilbur, who just laughs.

“If that’ll help you sleep at night, sure.” He pushes off from the wall, smile never changing, and maintains eye contact with Dream as he walks to the wall of lava. “Go ahead. Give it another go, if you’re not too scared.”

Dream growls and pushes him again, and this time the silence as Wilbur burns is so much worse than his laughter. He doesn’t break eye contact with Dream until the very end, mocking smile never lessening.

**[WilburSoot tried to swim in lava to escape Dream]**

Dream turns as soon as he vanishes, seeing what he expected- Wilbur is there, in the same position, eyes dancing with amusement.

“Again?” He suggests, repeating the same movements. Dream hesitates a mere moment before shoving him again, watching him fall and burn a third time. There is no laughter, no smile, just a bored expression as he watches his killer.

**[WilburSoot tried to swim in lava to escape Dream]**

Dream whirls, a breath escaping him as he finds the room empty.

“Finally,” He groans, slumping to sit on the floor. “Goodbye, Wilbur Soot.”

“Hello, Dream.” An amused voice answers, and Dream’s eyes snap open as he shoots to his feet, staring around the room incredulously. Wilbur stands in the same position as before, leaning against the wall as his mouth twitches with barely-restrained laughter.

“How.” Dream demands, balling his hands into fists to hide the way they tremble.

Wilbur simply smiles enigmatically. “It’s really very simple. See, you’ve made yourself into a bogeyman for a lot of these people. Set yourself up as some kind of living nightmare that can never be gotten rid of, not fully.”

He pushes off from the wall, heading back to his previous seat and pulling out his cards once more. “I decided it’s past time you have a nightmare of your own to deal with.”

Dream grits his teeth. “That’s  _ why _ . I asked  _ how _ .”

Wilbur shuffles his cards, unfazed. “Fuck you, that’s how.”

Dream splutters, and Wilbur glances at him and seems to take pity. Dream isn’t sure how he feels about that, but he is sure he’s not a fan.

“Dream, I mean that literally. I’m a part of the void now, and the void is part of me. Death doesn’t mean the same thing to me that it does to you, and intent is everything. So yes, quite literally, fuck you is how.”

“...So spite.” Dream summarizes, discomfort swirling in his gut.

Wilbur snorts. “Eh, close enough.”

Dream sighs, slumping back against the wall. “..So what, I’m stuck with you?” His mind is already turning, thinking of ways he can use this to his advantage. If Wilbur stays with him, Tommy will have to visit any time he wants to see his brother, and Dream knows even if he’s silent in the corner the whole time, Tommy won’t be able to ignore him.

“For now.” Wilbur says lightly. “I’m not a fan of being stuck in one place too long, but don’t worry! I won’t forget you. Fancy a little competitive solitaire?”

Dream doesn’t bother answering, just leans his head against the wall and sighs. Wilbur isn’t bothered by his silence, humming the L’Manberg anthem under his breath as he sets out the cards again.

It’s nearly another hour before something happens. Wilbur is shuffling his cards again when Sam’s voice comes through the lava wall.

“..Wilbur?”

“Hello.” Wilbur answers, tucking his cards into a pocket. There’s a sharp inhale from the other side, and then Sam speaks again, directing Wilbur to make sure Dream stays back from the lava wall. Wilbur sends a warning look to Dream, who stiffens and shuffles over to the bed, lying down and crossing his legs to present a relaxed air.

Wilbur rolls his eyes and turns back towards the lava wall, informing Sam that they’re good. The lava starts to lower, revealing Sam with an unreadable expression and Tommy standing half behind him, eyes wide. A platform slowly moves across and Wilbur steps on it, turning back to face Dream with a crooked smile.

“See you soon.” He says lightly, and he watches Dream until the lava falls down again and blocks him from view.

Tommy’s grinning when Wilbur turns back to face him, and he darts from behind Sam and collides with Wilbur in a tight hug as soon as the platform reaches their side. Wilbur holds him less tightly but with just as much feeling, ruffling his hair and snickering when he ducks away with an outraged expression.

“You’ve gotten better at acting, Tommy.” Wilbur remarks, smile audible in his voice. “He completely bought it.”

Tommy cackles. “Of course he did. I am a fantastic liar, big man, you should know that by now.”

“After the entire month I spent not playing solitaire to teach you acting, you’d better be.” Wilbur snorts, nodding to Sam in greeting as they walk toward the exit. “Alright, catch me up. What’ve you been up to all this time?”

Tommy launches into an excited description of the progress on the Big Innit Hotel, Wilbur and Sam sharing a fond glance over his head as they follow him out.

Wilbur slows to a stop as they exit, tilting his head back with closed eyes to feel the sun on his face. If there was one thing he missed in the void, it was the warmth of sunlight resting on his shoulders. He breathes in fresh air, exhaling it again slowly as a faint wind runs through his hair.

“Oi, Wilbur! You coming?”

Wilbur opens his eyes again. Tommy stands in front of him, grinning to hide the concern in his eyes that begins to fade when Wilbur smiles and reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Just try and get rid of me,” He answers, and the way his little brother’s face lights up makes all of it worth it, just for a little while. The void still coils in his mind, calling softly to him, but it quiets and curls up softly when he shushes it. The void is patient. He’ll return to it one day, and that knowledge is enough to content them both.

Until that day, he’s going to live.

**Author's Note:**

> be careful what u wish for i guess lmao
> 
> anyway i'm manifesting that when wilbur gets resurrected he actually doesn't help dream and instead absolutely roasts him and joins tommy, revealing it was a trick the whole time.... plase i jusg want dream getting outplayed by a child and a dead man kldngfhd p lease give me this one thing not wilbur as a villain pls the fandom will absolutely use it to justify/double down on all the ''vilbur'' shit mr soot please i beg you give us a healing arc ngfhbgfhj :''
> 
> oh also idk if it's very clear but tommy & sam knew wilbur was back bc of the death messages ^^ like tommy used wilbur and his plan to try and convince dream to do it but they didn't know when he'd do it if he did so :' the death messages were what tipped them off


End file.
